Motorcycles and Memories
by celticgina
Summary: A little one shot story about Rigsby and that bombshell he dropped about his dad. My take on it


**Ok, so Wayne with a big time gang biker dad?? Who saw that coming? Not me! But you all know I couldn't just let THAT much information sit and not fanfic about it. (Please all notice how I have just made fanfic into a verb!).**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, because I would never have given such a cutie pie that heavy a load!**

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"Your really don't like bikers"

In typical Cho manner, he had summed up and understated the obvious. As Rigsby listened to the roar of the cycles head away. The rage that had clouded his brain faded. He realized that he probably allowed his emotions to take over just then. He was glad at that moment to have Cho at his side. Nothing more would be said between them regarding this until Wayne was ready to talk. Right now, it was a re-opened scar.

Later that night, after a vigorous workout with a punching bag to relieve the stress and anger, Wayne sat in his apartment alone, forcing himself to face the demon. This case showed him it was time to get past it and handle it all. In the top corner shelf of his closet, sat a box he had carried with him everywhere he moved. He knew its contents completely, but had not opened it in 10 years. It was to time to exorcise his father.

The picture was faded, slightly dog-eared and cracked. But the faces of his mother, father, sister and 11 year old self stared back at him as clear as could be. In the picture, they were all wearing the colors. They were supposed to be proud of it. Looking back, he was surprised his dad even posed. There were a lot of people who wanted pictures to use for finding him. As an adult, Wayne now looked a little like his father. He had his height, that's for sure. In the photo, he even stood the same way, hand tucked into his left pocket, matching chains and bandanas. It was he supposed their own bizarre little family time together Even as a child, he was lanky and tall, almost as tall as his mother and taller than his older sister. Samantha and he were only 14 months apart. They were as close as twins. By the time he was 9, they were the same height, and he passed her the next summer. That's when it all started to change he remembered.

By the time Sam was 14, she was still tiny, but had started to become very pretty. It wasn't something she was happy about. She knew what being a woman in this world meant. You were chattel, to be used and abused at the whim of the men in the gang. She was smart and wanted better for herself. Sam always wore really ugly glasses and her hair in lopsided braids. Her t-shirts were always too big as were her jeans. Wayne knew she bound up her breasts. It was not something he wanted to know about, but she told him. He had to know the truth. They told each other everything.

His mother was worn and tiny, beaten down by the hard life she chose with this man. She knew what was coming for her children, but the drugs and booze had long ago dulled any semblance of maternal instinct. The only time she noticed them is when the nosy ass social worker from whatever school they insisted upon attending showed up. She played nice for the bitches, and then gave the kids beatings for giving her the trouble. Wayne had started taking his sister's beatings as soon as he was bigger. Sam took care of him and made sure he had food and clothes and got to school. He protected her.

For Wayne, he didn't have the same worries coming of age that plagued his sister. But he had other ones. His father, Jake the Snake was a leader in their world. Wayne knew he was being groomed to join and be a leader when the time was right. He also knew there was a better world out there. He had seen it in the other children's faces when they were allowed to go to school. Being a roving nomad on a motorcycle was anything but romantic for a child. You were dragged around on the back of a bike behind whoever was forced to take you up.

The feel of the wind whistling past you as you moved from one dump to another stayed with him always. He remembered too the sound of the bikes as they revved, the vibrations that you felt even after you were off the bike. Between the picture, the only one he had of his parents, and that sound today, it all became fresh in his mind. He remembered being in school sporadically, but reading whatever books he and Sam could get there hands on. As soon as the bikes stopped, the two would find a hiding spot and stay there as long as possible. The drinking and drugs faded away when you were reading about far-away places.

That summer changed his life forever. He was almost 14 and Sam was just turned 15. She had well hidden her age and looks for a long time. Then Little Spike looked over at her one day and commented, "When are we getting a crack at that one? She will be old enough soon?" Jake grabbed Sam's braids and queried "How the hell old are you now anyway? 13 or so?" Wayne took in the look of horror on his beloved sister's face and acted fast.

"Hey! Spike! You ready to go down on that arm wrestling? I can take you now!"

The group's attention was diverted away by the challenge issued from the skinny kid. They all watched as he took another beating in several ways. Wayne watched as Sam pulled back and went to hide in the double-wide. She got away. The bruises he bore would heal faster than the damage she would have received.

That night, they left and never looked back. It took some time, but the two teenagers found their mother's heartbroken parents. Thomas and Mary Rigsby had given up ever seeing their daughter or grandchildren. When the bedraggled teenagers showed up on their doorsteps at 9:30 at night, they were astounded. When Sam and Wayne explained that they had run away from their parents and wanted to 'stay until we can take care of ourselves', their hearts melted. Watching Wayne hold up his exhausted sister and stand as straight as possible made their decision for them.

After the first good night's sleep that any of them could remember in years, the wary children and older couple sat together over a large breakfast. Wayne could still remember how wonderful the maple syrup on that huge stack of pancakes smelled.

Wayne and Sam gave their grandparents and edited version of their lives. Reading between the lines and the bruises on Wayne, his grandfather's blood boiled. Forcing himself to cool his rage, he probed for more information.

"What do you two want to be when you get older?" They were stunned; no one had ever asked them what they wanted before. Sam answered first. "I'd like to be a teacher or a librarian, surrounded by books and learning all day."

Wayne knew what he didn't want. "I don't want to have to hide when the cops come. Actually, I would like to be a cop. Maybe get rid of some of those people who treat the rules and other people like they don't matter".

Their answers told the Rigsby's that these children were not too far gone to be saved. From that moment on, Wayne and Sam lived with their grandparents. When he was younger, not having the same last name as his dad was a pain. Now he was glad he shared his grandfather's name. They were behind in school, but caught up quickly.

Wayne heard about his mother's death just before he started the police academy. A lone motorcycle outside the home he had come to love was his clue that their horrid childhood had returned. His grandmother was sitting calmly with Joker and Ruby, two of the oldest members of the gang. They brought the picture and what little paperwork there was to mark the children's early years. His father had died 2 years earlier in a shootout with another gang. Wayne shed no tears for either one.

Running his fingers over the faded photo, he again thanked God for leading him to his grandparents. He also finally recognized that even though he looked a little like his father, that cruel streak was severely diluted and under control. One day, when he was a father himself, he would never make those same mistakes. At the idea of fatherhood, his eyes softened. He couldn't help but hope his children had red hair.

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**Yeah, I went sappy here, but had to give our boy a happy ending. And I can so see him being raised by grandparents. It would explain so much about how old-fashioned and sweet he is. **

**So, whaddya think? Reviews make me happy…you DO want me to be happy don't you?????**

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